


The Five Love Languages

by phenomanon



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Falling In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Romance, fortnite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 09:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phenomanon/pseuds/phenomanon
Summary: How fluent are Nick and Greg in the five "love languages?" Each chapter is a different love language.





	1. Chapter 1

🎵 [Scarlett Johansson & Joaquin Phoenix - The Moon Song (Her - OST)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxahbnUCZxY)

———

**1\. QUALITY TIME**

"What up G?" 

Waving his cellphone at the lab wall, Nick finally caught the attention of a peculiar spiky haired DNA tech.

Greg looked up with a smile, waving back from behind the glass.

"_Hey you_. Just in time."

"You have somethin' for me?"

"I have _two_ somethings for you." Greg proceeded as he handed Nick a page of freshly printed paper. "First, I identified the epithelials from your vic's hair sample. Got a hit in CODIS to a Paul Warner. Priors for burglary."

"Paul Warner..." The older man replied thoughtfully. "Got it, what's the second thing?"

"Well." Greg's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I saw that our shifts both end around nine...wanna see a movie?"

Nick laughed. "We just hung out the other day, man."

"I figured we could hang out again." The blonde spoke with a hopeful smile.

"It's just—we been hangin' a lot lately. Games at the house, dinners..."

"I don't know, I thought...I just like spending time with you." Greg muttered, fidgeting with his lab coat as he talked to Nick.

He was like a puppy who just wanted to be near his human all the time.

"I like spending time with you too, but two guys at a movie late at night?"

Greg shook his head.

Sometimes Nick was an uptight, old-fashioned sourpuss from Texas.

"Oh...I mean don't you and Warrick do that?"

"I don't think me and 'Rick have ever seen a movie together in a theatre, no."

"Any chance you'd wanna see one with _me_?" Greg asked again, brown eyes large and glossy—dispersing the optimal level of Sanders charm.

"_Any chance Nick wants to see what with you, Greg_?"

Both men straightened their backs at the sudden intrusion, idly shuffling papers to look busy.

"Nothing Grissom." Nick managed to spit out, unable to hide the nervousness in his voice.

Grissom smirked, turning his focus on Greg. "Would you care to educate us on the case, _professor_?"

"Uh...yes boss...sir. Grissom."

"Greg, what did I tell you about calling me sir?"

"...To not call you that?"

"Correct. And the hair sample?"

"Epithelials came back to a Paul Warner, 23 years old, priors for burglary in CODIS. Address is 1234 Bonanza Road. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Your data _always_ means something to me, Greg." Burrowing his brows, Grissom nodded at Greg and then faced Nick. "The brother's friend. Seems like he _did_ return to the crime scene later that night, and we have the skin tags to prove it. Nice work, Greg." 

Was that a blush creeping up on the lab tech's face or simply a trick of the light?

"Thank you Grissom." Greg proudly declared, beaming in Nick's direction.

"Oh and Nick?" 

"Yeah Gris?"

"I hear the movie '_Climax_' by Gaspar Noé is rather remarkable. Maybe you should ask Greg if he wants to see it? Until then, there's still two hours on the clock. I expect both of you to be working. _Diligently_."

Bodies in the lab had never heated up so fast, even ones under a heat lamp or treated with sodium chloride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess in this AU (to keep things happy), Holly Gribbs didn't get shot and Warrick didn't get put on administrative leave. Scenes are from the "Pilot" episode.

🎵 [peachy! – falling for you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSXiNSiiCsg)

———

**2\. RECEIVING GIFTS**

"Well hello there _Mr. Crime Scene Investigator_."

"Oh hey man. I was just looking for you."

Nick got up from the chair he was waiting in to welcome the bright-eyed chemist back to the lab.

"You were, huh?" Greg teased, making the older man fluctuate between shades of red.

"Need to see if you can get any hits off this sample."

Nick handed the slender scientist a glass tube, reddening again when their hands briefly touched. Smirking, Greg began his preliminary visual examination of the swab. 

"Saliva? Gonna warn you, these mouth swabs don't always read. Vaginal swabs, no problem. Anal swabs—money."

"Anal swabs?"

"Anal swabs."

"Ouch."

Nick shifted his eyes uncomfortably as he sat back down in his chair, praying the chemist wouldn't bring up anal swabs again. Instead, Greg grabbed the nearest chair and slid it right up against Nick's.

"In 20 seconds, this'll give us a complete chemical breakdown, right down to the atom."

With a wiggle of his eyebrows and a flick of a few buttons, the machine in front of them begin to whirr.

"And now we wait." Greg announced, taking a seat next to Nick—their shoulders nearly touching.

Nick was about to look at Greg until he realized how close they were. On second thought, he decided to try his hand at a conversation to break the awkward silence looming over the room.

_But all he could come up with was..._

"Dude, you got NFL-2K for Dreamcast?"

"Of course, bought it the day it came out." The blonde looked thoughtfully at Nick, biting his bottom lip. "...Those graphics are killer aren't they?"

_Sure, the graphics._

"Yeah, yeah. They are."

_They might as well have been discussing the weather._

"My team's the Falcons, who do you use?" Greg asked, scribbling down a few notes on his clipboard while he spoke.

"Randy Moss."

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Greg carefully looked over at Nick.

"So uh, heard you're up for a promotion. Congrats, Nick. Does that make you...a level three now?"

Now it was Nick's turn to smirk as he patted Greg's shoulder affectionately. The younger scientist had to admit, there was nothing more comforting than Nick's physical cues. He also didn't want to admit how starstruck he was with the older man's steady rise at CSI. It reminded Greg of his own appetite for ambition.

"Not yet, but thanks man."

_Maybe we oughta celebrate if it happens. Just you and me?_

"You'll get it."

"Hope so."

He nods wistfully, currently entranced by the way Greg is fiddling with his pen cap.

"What are you going to do with the new 8k in promotion funds?"

Nick twisted his head at the blonde defensively. "How do you know about that?"

"I know a little bit about everything, Nick. And everyone."

He narrows his eyes at Greg, shifting his attention when the machine starts beeping. Greg quickly shoots up to retrieve the piece of paper that is printing, and though subtle, Nick can see a faint frown emerge on the blonde's lips.

"It didn't take, did it?"

"A hint of saliva; some denture adhesive...that's it. Sorry Nick."

"That's all right. Thanks anyways." The older man exhaled, squeezing Greg's shoulder before exiting the lab.

———

"Hey. Heard you solved the Baker case?"

Nick looked up from his yogurt cup to see Grissom's head poking out from behind the breakroom door.

"Yeah, we got the suspect. The best friend...well ex-best friend."

Grissom curiously tilted his head before taking out a piece of paper and handing it to Nick.

"Good. I need you on a 419 off Pacific Ave and Artic Street."

"Okay boss." Nick said affirmatively, quickly straightening himself up. "Who am I with?"

"You're solo on this one."

The brown haired man suddenly beamed, a giant smile spreading across his face in record time.

"Thanks boss."

"Hey Nick?"

"Yeah Gris?"

"Happy 100th." And with that, Grissom was gone like a ghost.

———

Nick grabbed his kit as he eagerly headed to the parking lot for his next assignment.

_Solo. Grissom had actually trusted him to run lead on a case, solo. _

Before he could resume his inner monologue, a loud crash from the distance stole Nick's attention. Swiftly turning his body towards the noise, he could see the hazy outline of blonde spikes and a blue lab coat.

"Watch where you're going!" Came an aggressive threat from the badge Greg had inadvertently bumped into.

Much to Greg's horror, a small crowd had started to gather, mostly cops from the surrounding area.

"Sorry man, I—"

"I don't give a fuck." The cop got up and dusted himself off, looking down at Greg like a banal child. "Must be a rookie."

Another cop behind him quickly chimed in, "Probably. They're getting worse too. Heard the city had to hire a bunch to keep up."

Greg lowered his head, waiting until the cops dispersed before picking himself up.

What if they were right and he wasn't cut out for the job? Because Greg _was_ a rookie, technically, just having transferred from San Francisco PD. To throw more wood on the fire, he had also graduated not too long ago.

Suddenly two hands appeared before him; one holding Greg's cracked phone, the other palm out to help him up.

The chemist glanced upwards, embarrassed to see Nick's majestic face blocking the sunlight.

"Those guys are assholes. One of the reasons I quit the force." Nick offered, helping dust Greg off as the young man got himself together.

"Can't believe you saw that."

"Saw what? I didn't see anything."

Greg smiled weakly, grabbing the broken phone from Nick's hand.

"Thanks."

———

"Congratulations Nicky, my boy. You are now a CSI Level Three." Grissom proudly declared, handing Nick his shiny new ID badge.

"Whoo!" He shouted in excitement, anxiously looking back at Warrick.

"Good job, Nick." Warrick replied, genuinely happy for the newly appointed level three.

"Thanks. Uh hey, Warrick, listen...I heard about the whole thing with the shoe and..."

"Forget it man, it's all you."

Warrick finally got up from his seat, putting out his hand as a peace offering to Nick. Nick graciously took it, shaking hands with his best friend.

"Let's get some breakfast, boys. It's on me!" Catherine interjected, getting big smiles from both Nick and Warrick. "The usual place?"

"Sounds great, Cath. Meet you guys there! I gotta finish up something real quick."

———

Greg was researching the melting point of Coke cans when he heard soft knocking at the door. His heart stuttered a little when he saw Nick waving at him with one hand behind his back.

"Hey."

"Yo."

"...I didn't see anything new from you, Nick. Did you submit something?"

"No, no. I actually came by for something else."

"Oh?" Greg asked, bookmarking the page he was reading and closing the book.

"Yeah, um..." Nick wasn't able to communicate the rest of his thoughts, so he handed Greg an inconspicuous box instead. 

"What's this?"

"Uh..."

He was still at a complete loss of words, so Greg took the initiative to start unboxing. Once he got the package open, a resounding squeak of appreciation left the younger man's lips.

"Wow. You got me an $8,000 iPod?"

The older man smirked, taking the discarded box from Greg's hands.

"Funny."

"Seriously though, what's this for?"

"It's not much, but I figured—since I'm flush with cash now..." Nick joked, getting a chuckle from the chemist. "...that you should keep up with the times, man. You can store 10GB's of songs on this thing, so you don't have to clutter your lab with a bunch of CD's any more."

Nick had no idea what he was going on about since he was repeating verbatim what the electronics employee had told him, but he'd do it all over again for the smile on Greg's face.

"Thanks Nick, this is..." Greg continued to cradle the gadget in his arms. "Congrats, by the way. I knew you'd get the promotion."

"Oh, um, thanks Greg." Nick said shyly, his fingers dancing on the door jamb as he thought about what to say next.

"Hey, we should celebrate you being a CSI Level Three. How are you with lamb?"

"Lamb? Never tried it."

"Are you open to trying it?" Greg questioned, and Nick wasn't sure if he was talking about the lamb any more.

"Yeah sure, I'm down."

"Cool. Because I know this great little mom and pops spot that makes a mean rack. They also have the best drink specials, so we can get our celebration on properly." 

"Sounds good, Greg."

"We can go back to my place for a game of NFL-2K after. And test out my new iPod together?" Greg nervously suggested, raising his eyebrows playfully at Nick.

The DNA tech's voice was laced with something other than friendliness, making Nick blush again.

"I'd like that."


	3. Chapter 3

🎵 [Arcade Fire - Photograph](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knTY2hpHwEY&t)

———

**3\. WORDS OF AFFIRMATION**

** _"G."_ **

"Sorry man, didn't know you had the monopoly on callin' me G."

"When did he start calling you that? Has he _always_ called you that?"

There was genuine distress in Nick's voice.

"No he just started. Don't worry—the origin story of '_G_' is still you."

Sensing that Nick was visibly annoyed by the stiffness in his shoulders, Greg slid his arms around the older man and affectionately kissed the corner of his mouth. _Which was twitching._

"I'm still tellin' Hodges he can't call you G."

"Tell him whatever you want, just promise you'll play nice."

Nick rolled his eyes at the request, possessively tightening his hold on the slender scientist.

"Can't promise that."

"_Nick—_"

"And I thought I was okay with your little _man dates_, but now I think you might need a Hodges sabbatical."

"You could always hang out _with us_, you know."

Greg knew Nick wouldn't be able to resist regulating his hang outs with Hodges...but as his partner, Nick also realized that he should trust Greg enough to have his own friends—even Hodges.

"Fine, I'll behave. Only 'cause I love you though."

"_Okay—_" Greg said with a defeated sigh."I'll tell Hodges that only _you_ can call me G."

———

** _"I love waking up next to you."_ **

For the past year or so, Greg Sanders had become Nick's favorite pastime.

Like a thespian on the stage, he'd memorized every movement of their morning routine.

Greg would open the performance by stretching to a soundtrack of cracking bones. The shift would wake Nick, letting him know to prepare them for act two. That's when Greg would unconsciously flip around, desperately in search of Nick's lips. Once Greg found them, there would usually be a sloppy kiss or something similar before he turned back around to nap for two more weeks of winter. Nick's sacred job in all of this was to make sure everything went smoothly in their dance for two; their favorite way of waking up.

Nick wasn't used to starting his day with another body in his bed—especially a repeat offender.

Because a neat and orderly person such as himself wasn't fond of tripping over Greg's massive CD collection... Or having to wade through seas of various hair care products to get to his bathroom sink. He had spent years carefully cultivating his home, meticulously making sure that every hair was perfectly in place. So where in his pristine existence did Greg fit in exactly?

Currently he was mumbling inaudible noises into Nick's arm, a thin layer of drool threatening to make its presence known. But before it could spill, Greg's hand closed around Nick's, making the older man's heart flutter.

In that moment, Nick realized his entire world had been turned upside down and he was now taking contributions from a Marilyn-Manson-liquid-latex-coffee enthusiast.

As long as he could wake up with Greg in his arms, wispy bedhead and all, Nick was willing to rearrange the puzzle pieces so Greg could fit. 

———

** _"Thank you for always being there."_ **

_Greg had always been there for Nick._

It started innocently enough; Greg supporting Nick as he ambitiously scaled the ranks of CSI. Things like staying _way_ after his shift ended to process Nick's samples (_secretly_) to printing his CrimeStopper newsletter for the whole department to witness.

_Then, things took a turn._

After Nick got locked up in _that box_, his personality changed. Sure, he was still the same 'ol Nick—_friendly and dependable_—but now he was triggered by the dark. And by sudden touches or noises, as well as creepy crawlers...especially ants. Nick would soon learn though, that it was going to take a lot more than that to scare away Greg.

In fact, Greg wasted no time installing an advanced LED lighting system for Nick's new house after the abduction. He made sure there were touch screens, timers, and dimmers—_all the bells and whistles_—and that Nick knew how to use all of them like a pro.

There were also a few cramped weeks where he slept beside Nick on a barely comfortable pull-out couch in the living room because the Texan wasn't ready for confined spaces yet.

But Greg didn't mind. He just wanted to make sure he could turn on '_relaxing nature and farm sounds_' in time so that Nick wouldn't fall asleep to dead silence.

Nick never said it in so many words, of course, but he appreciated all of the little things (that grew to be big things) that made up Greg Sanders. Because Nick thanked his lucky stars every day that Greg was _always there _for him.

———

** _"I love the way you laugh."_ **

Hearing Greg laugh always made Nick laugh, regularly getting them into trouble at work.

Truth be told, there was nothing more intoxicating than Greg Sander's laugh—except for when his entire body ricochetted along with the laughter. 

Or when Greg got carried away with the situation, letting a hand rest on Nick's shoulder before affectionately squeezing to let him know he got the joke.

It was no surprise, then, that Nick also fell in love with the way Greg would laugh at comics on the rare occasion they would eat breakfast together.

The older man picked up the Sunday paper on his morning runs, meticulously setting the comics aside because that was Greg's _favorite_ section. Actually, it was the only section Greg would read besides the high profile cases on the front page.

During their Sunday morning rituals, one hand would often be entwined with Nick's; the other balancing a burnt piece of bacon as Greg cruised the funnies. When something particular caught his attention, Greg would pull Nick close, demanding that he give his comedic analysis on the masterpiece in front of them. (_Even if it was just Marmaduke rolling around the flowerbed again_) Nick would always oblige though, but not necessarily because he found the Sunday paper all that interesting.

———

** _"You're doing great—don't give up."_ **

_Nick had always been there for Greg, too._

He was the only one who let Greg out in the field, against the behest of his supervisors and often to his own detriment.

Deep down, Nick knew that Greg wasn't quite ready to handle the bus catastrophe—but that bandaid had to come off sometime. And as much as Nick wanted to outfit Greg with his extra jacket before the shift, he knew that he had to let the younger man tough it or he would never learn. But as they made their way back to the station, Nick made sure to let Greg know that he was doing his best and that was worth something—even if he froze up once or twice.

_It happens to everyone, Greg._

After the explosion, Greg's hands never quite stopped shaking.

_Does **that** happen to everyone, Nick?_

Greg was certain he was going to be let go by the city, because what good is a surgeon without sturdy tools and a firm hand?

Grissom had even scared the DNA tech a few times, whenever he would examine Greg's unsettled hands. But Nick would always come by the lab, carefully rubbing Greg's fingers and telling him he was improving incrementally every day. They both knew it was a lie, but Greg always chose to believe it.

Kissing Greg's hands became Nick's greeting after awhile. Greg was incredibly insecure about letting anyone touch his phalanges after the accident, but he always let Nick because he loved it when he would gently massage the tension out of his knuckles. He also loved being held in Nick's strong arms as he cried silently about the permanence of his condition. Greg never felt like giving up though, because Nick always made sure he believed that things would get better.

And eventually, they sort of did. They were nowhere near factory reset, but with time, Greg's hands stopped shaking so frequently. In fact, his hands now only shook in times of extreme duress, compared to every day when the explosion first happend.

That's also when Greg finally told Nick about wanting to get out of the lab and become a CSI.

_You can do it._

When Greg messed up his first proficiency, the CSI-in-training took it especially hard. As a perfectionist—the ultimate fastidious overachiever, Greg's loss felt like the end of the world.

Thankfully Grissom had given Greg signs that he shouldn't throw in the towel just yet. That was nice, but it was nothing compared to having Nick rub the strain out of his shoulders, whispering words of affirmation lovingly in his ears.

Nick would always say how the team was proud of him, and that he had come a long way from the bright-eyed, bushy-browed Stanford grad he fell in love with. But the best part was when Nick assured Greg that everyone had their moments—_even Catherine_. Hearing all of their shortcomings candidly from someone as guarded as Nick was like acquiring ancient secrets from the gods. All because Nick really did believe in Greg.

That's why the only memory Greg has from his first failed proficiency is taking off his shirt and grabbing Nick...and then not much else.

———

** _"You mean the world to me."_ **

Nick doesn't quite know why, but he first expressed these words to Greg after going on their hog-wild adventure for Henry's birthday.

_As if flipping a car and being held hostage by crazy rednecks wasn't enough to tell someone how you feel about them._

Greg had always been Nick's ride or die from day one—but the older man never understood it with such clarity until that trip.

Nick will never forget how fast he crawled out of that crushed can of a car—eyes desperately searching for dirty blonde tips. Nick's breathing only steadied when he saw two slender fingers signal to him that everything was fine, followed by a crooked smile. His breath caught in his throat as he rushed to Greg, checking his vitals and dusting him off in a way that embarrassed the younger man profusely. A '_stop embarrassing me in front of my friends but thanks for caring_' type of way.

And when Greg had processed the scene like a pro, Nick still recalls the surge of appreciation that swept through his entire body.

Seeing Greg fearlessly climb a telephone pole to make an emergency call made Nick's heart flutter like one of Grissom's framed butterflies. He could hardly contain himself waiting for Greg to make his way back down...because all Nick remembers is buckling his fingers into Greg's belt loops, bringing him close and whispering appreciation with such intensity that it made the younger man stop breathing.

For once Greg didn't care who was watching as he stole Nick's lips in a passionate kiss—stopping immediately when he realized they had just been in a serious car wreck and their faces were basically two pulsating bruises.

———

** _"I'm so glad you chose me."_ **

_In all the world, out of billions of people, Nick had chosen Greg._

Out of all the beautiful people in the lab, many who had the hots for Nick, Greg was the only person Nick could see.

For Greg was the one tangled in Nick's arms, his clothes blended into the older man's drawers like a watercolor painting, extra toothbrush deeply-rooted in the bathroom. Only Nick appreciated all of Greg's weird hobbies and neurotic tendencies—and willingly played along with all of them. Subsequently, Greg acknowledged all of Nick's darkest secrets—like making sure the house lights were dimmed to 10% every night before going to sleep.

But they were both okay with it, because neither man could imagine being with anyone else.

Not that they wanted to, because all they wanted, was their soulmate. 


	4. Chapter 4

🎵 [Paramore - The Only Exception](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-J7J_IWUhls)

———

**4\. ACTS OF SERVICE (DEVOTION)**

_"I would take you and me over Catherine and Greg any time."_

_"She's got Greg helping her?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Well the only way to learn is by getting out in the field and if...Greg helps find her—I'm okay with that."_

His jaw suddenly clenched.

———

Nick Stokes was a man of order.

He had a particular way of doing things, which is why he preferred to take care of errands by himself. Whenever Greg _helped_, chores never got done in a timely manner. Actually, no work would get done at all. One amorous look from Greg and it was all over for Nick—another day, another distraction.

Nick also thought, _for what it's worth_, that _he_ should have worked the Julie Waters case with Catherine. It was high-profile and if the pecking order was concerned, Nick was first in line. Also Greg was still technically a CSI _trainee_, which Nick had seniority over. He cleared his throat when the conversation with Sara invaded his thoughts again.

As he dressed the bed with newly washed sheets, Nick cathartically arranged the laundry into neat little stacks. Neat little stacks that would never be, if Greg had a hand in it. For the blonde's idea of laundry was tossing all the clean clothes on top of the bed and napping until Nick got home. Then Nick would have to roll him over to collect the laundry, exchanging lots of kisses in between. Nick didn't mind it most of the time, but sometimes—_just sometimes—_he missed having an orderly space.

A part of Nick really enjoyed these quiet moments alone...that is, until he spotted the country CD (_which had way too much Shania Twain_) Greg burned for him resting on the nightstand. On second thought, every moment would probably be better if Greg was involved somehow. In that moment, Nick condemned his jealousy, realizing how much Greg deserved to work the case. Not only did the kid put in work every day, but Catherine was right—Greg was the only one without an ulterior career motive. He was just naïvely eager to help all the time; _almost to a fault_.

He'd given Greg the cold shoulder all day, remaining friendly and professional but completely detached. Nick remembers Greg rushing to the breakroom, cup ramen in tow, excited to share the case with Nick—only to have the older man awkwardly make an excuse and leave. Nick could almost retrace the pattern of hurt in Greg's features; the younger man confused at his lack of reciprocation.

Speaking of, Greg would probably be wrapping up the case pretty soon.

The Texan made his way downstairs to check on the pie that was warming in the oven. It was a secret Stokes family recipe that Nick had learned from his mom as a kid. Greg loved it when Nick cooked, especially when it was one of the Stokes' Southern comfort foods. There was no way Greg would be able to resist Nick's homemade pot pie, especially if the vegetables were hidden under a thick layer of carbs.

"Easy as pie." Nick commented to himself, thinking about his beau as he closed the oven door.

He then tussled a game case out of his work bag and aesthetically placed it on the dinner table next to the Pinot Grigio. Nick wanted it to be comically visible since Greg had been _going on_ (_and on_) about the Fortnite drop for weeks. But since Greg was working overtime with Catherine on the Waters case, Nick had offered to pick it up instead. His romantic side fancied doing things for Greg because it was a reminder that the blonde was loved, especially since he was the type that needed constant gratification.

After turning off the kitchen timer, Nick returned to the laundry. He would now have to battle Greg's growing collection of mismatched socks, his OCD's least favorite undertaking. Currently there were seven odd socks from every color on the spectrum; each with no partner to match with. When Nick tried to dispose of the misfit socks, Greg came in screaming, '_You wouldn't throw family away, would you?_' So now they lived in a forgotten corner of Nick's drawers, because _Gregory Hojem-Sanders_. Yep. Greg was definitely a lot of things, but deep down he was a good kid who just wanted the best for everyone.

Hearing Greg's nagging echo in his head, Nick typed up a quick text hoping to catch Greg before he left the lab.

**[_ Hey we still on for tonight? _]**

He hit send, apprehensively folding Greg's clothes into pristine piles.

** **[ ** _Idk are we? 🤷‍♂️_ ** **]** ** **

Nick set aside Greg's skull print button-up to finally confront the conversation he had been avoiding all day.

** **[ ** _What do you mean?_ ** **]** ** **

** **[ ** _Idk it seemed like u were mad at me all day 😕 are u?? is it about the case? 😐_ ** **]** ** **

He felt bad again for allowing jealousy to consume him.

** **[ ** _Sorry G. Not mad, just been a long day. You still coming over?_ ** **]** ** **

** **[ ** _do u want me to?** ****]******_**

** **[ ** _Duh. I wanna hear all about your case. Hurry💋_ ** **]** ** **

** **[ ** get off in 30 see u soon_ _😍_ miss u too baby 😽❤️👻🤟_ ** **]** ** **

———

There was scratching at the front door and after a short struggle, a frazzled blonde appeared.

"What took so long?" Nick's voice exploded with yearning as he took Greg's coat.

"Processing and logging all of Howard's stuff—took _forever_. Catherine and I just wrapped our case. By the way...did you clean up in here?" 

Shoes kicked off in all directions as Greg asked the question.

"Maybe."

"And is that food I smell?"

Followed by a pair of mismatched socks flying into the distance.

"Why, you hungry?"

Greg's eyes illuminated, breathing a burst of much needed light into the older man.

"Starving."

"Good. 'Cuz I made my famous...apology pot pie. I'm sorry Greg."

"For what?" The blonde inquired, pensively unbuttoning his dress shirt as he entered the kitchen.

"For being an asshole and letting Sara get to me. That was _your_ case Greg, and you did us all proud. You're doing great—don't give up."

For the first time that day, Greg's tension eased from his face as his lips met Nick's.

"Thought—maybe you didn't think I was qualified to work the Waters case. Kept feeling like I wasn't good enough and maybe you had second thoughts...about us. I mean, it's all fun and games until I put a damper on your career...right?"

"I would never think that, Greg. You mean the world to me, man."

Nick's hand lightly traced Greg's chin as he closed the distance between them.

"You know, I am so afraid of making a mistake and being sent back to the lab that I barely notice what anybody else is doing at a scene. I am trying to focus on my own work and follow my training but it's pretty hard when everyone sees you as the gum on the bottom of their shoe. Thought for a moment you were against me too."

Greg's shoulders fell.

"Hey, you deserved that case as much as the rest of us, Greg. Catherine made the right choice, we'll all just have to get over it." Nick said with a smirk. "I meant what I told Sara—I'm proud of you for breaking the case. Don't forget we're a _team_, babe. Now go wash up and let's eat. I know you're dying to catch me up to speed."

Nick caressed him reassuringly, inhaling Greg's essence with every word.

"Already took a shower at work."

Greg reached for silverware but was promptly stopped by the older man who knew he was lying.

"No you didn't."

Nick intensified his cop stance.

"Okay okay, I didn't. But I'm exhausted Nicky, can we just grub?"

"Too tired...to play Fortnite?"

The blonde's expression lifted again as he watched Nick point to something on the table.

"Scratch that, new plan. Shower, food, Fortnite, then..._dessert_?" Greg spoke the last word suggestively, getting a smile from Nick.

"Whatever you want, G. Let's celebrate you closing the Waters case."

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

"Funny, I feel the same way." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning conversation is from the episode "After the Show."


	5. Chapter 5

🎵 [LCD Soundsystem - oh baby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gIhrPGyu6U)

🎵 [MGMT - Little Dark Age](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtL5oMyBHPs&ab_channel=MGMTVEVO)

———

**5\. PHYSICAL TOUCH**

** _Oh baby _ **

** _Oh baby _ **

** _You're having a bad dream _ **

** _Here in my arms _ **

———

Nick watched the football game as Greg competed with the Cowboys for his attention.

But all of Greg's attempts had been futile so far with Nick even curbing the irresistible Sanders neck nibble™.

He hadn't moved since the last field goal two hours ago and Greg's insecurity was brewing from Nick's lack of motivation. Usually by now they would be all over each other—tangled limbs and all—but the Texan's eyes were glued to the screen as if Greg didn't exist. Recently their lives had gotten a lot busier, creating an irreparable distance between the two. Not only was the distance palpable, it was profound.

In a last ditch effort Greg tossed his half-eaten pizza and playfully tackled Nick. Nick surprisingly responded back, amorously wrestling Greg until he noticed pizza sauce on the couch.

"Greg! Come on man."

"My bad."

Nick gently pushed the blonde off of him as he went to look for cleaning supplies. Greg sighed, feeling the warmth leave his body and picked up the remaining crumbs.

"You're making it worse."

"I'm just trying to help, Nick."

"Well you're not helping so...just leave it."

"Fine. Guess I'll get out of your hair then."

"What?"

"I'm gonna go home."

"...Up to you."

Not getting the answer he was looking for, Greg furrowed his brows and left.

———

"I used to _be things_, Arch. The crazy guy into surfing, wild parties, and traveling—you know? Now I just eat diner food and watch reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger."

"Sounds like you need a vacation."

"A vacation?"

The lab tech cocked his head at Archie's precipitous bout of wisdom.

"Mm-hmmm. Don't you have some days saved up? Use 'em or lose 'em."

Gunshots shook Greg out of his stupor as Archie flanked an enemy in their video game. Greg quickly refocused and followed Archie's character through the game map, trying to remember the last time he went on a vacation. Visiting his parents for the holidays two years ago didn't count, and it was probably a bad sign if he had to fish this hard for an answer.

"You might be right, Arch."

Archie's face loosened at the sentiment.

"No surprise there." He smirked before continuing. "Been doing a lot of overtime lately so I took a lil trip last month. Maybe you should too. Saved up all my days and partied in Singapore for a week. It was _awesome_."

Greg briefly imagined himself exploring the streets of Singapore; surrounded by futuristic high rises, bright lights, and hordes of people rushing past him. The sounds of busy feet on concrete in the smoky city air almost felt tangible.

"Sounds epic, man. Honestly I wouldn't even know where to go."

That's when Greg realized he was getting old...and domestic.

Other people his age were probably out exploring the world while Greg's greatest joy in life was waiting for Nick to get off work so they could fall asleep to Fraiser together. 

_Fraiser_.

"Why don't you just revisit a place you've already been? But do it differently this time."

Either Archie was a genius or this was a some kind of sign.

"I mean...it _has_ been a while since I've been to New York."

———

Nick's pupils were once again fixed on the TV.

Greg couldn't understand how they could be so close physically yet so far away—even in the comfort of his own home. He had hoped to either talk or fuck it out, but Nick claimed he was too tired to read subtitles for a film Greg wanted to watch—and it was over. Now they were couch-bound zoning out to some B-movie on Netflix together. Together, but not really _together_.

"I'm going to New York." Greg announced abruptly, breaking the tension in the room.

Fear flickered in Nick's face for a moment before it was gone again.

"...Yeah?"

"Yeah, this Friday after work. Around seven."

"For what?"

"Going to visit my old stomping grounds. Just needed to get away, you know?"

"I see."

Greg tried to decipher the look on Nick's face but it was too cryptic, even for a genius like himself.

"So yeah...I'll be gone for six days. Think you can feed my fish?" The older man still hadn't moved. "_Nick_?"

"Sure."

"Thanks Nicky."

Greg squeezed Nick's shoulder and wished he could say something more reassuring.

"No problem." Nick tapped Greg's legs as he turned to face him. "Let's go to bed. It's getting late."

———

_ **Oh lover ** _

_ **You run from me ** _

_ **We move like a bad scene ** _

_ **Shot in the dark** _

———

Greg peered through the plane window to see a constellation of lights twinkle beneath him.

He could already tell New York had completely changed since the brief time he lived there. At least Greg had been at CSI for a couple of years, the cushy lab gig affording him a nice hotel in SoHo. It was a stark contrast from living in a closet-sized apartment surviving on instant ramen.

Greg wasn't even sure Nick would appreciate the city like he did. Things like crazy New Yorker sightings, vintage thrift shops, and late night bodega runs. If Nick had tagged along, they would have hit the tourist traps without a doubt. Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, Times Square—cringeworthy destinations for Greg's more hipster reservations. For that reason, he was glad to have traveled alone.

When the plane docked, Greg languidly rose from his seat. The exit line started to form as slender arms struggled to pull a bag out of the overhead compartment. Anxiety was building; the blonde momentarily wishing Nick was around to play hero. Anytime Greg needed a hand with something, Nick was always just one call away. 

But now wasn't the time to muse about Nick.

The people behind Greg were starting to get testy, making him hastily dislodge the carrier and get moving.

He made his way down the airport track and secretly hoped that Nick was missing him too.

———

"Surprised you found time away from your boo thang to come hang out, man."

Nick's face flushed as he emptied the beer in front of him, silently confirming all of Warrick's suspicions.

"I don't have a boo man, just busy working."

"_Right_. That's why you never have time to kick it with your boy any more."

The gruesome twosome, as Nick and Warrick were once aptly nicknamed, hadn't seen each other in awhile due to their busy schedules. And by busy schedules, Nick meant Greg. Not Greg _per se_, but Nick was getting older and he really wanted someone to come home to. Not that he didn't cherish his best friend and their adventures together, but he wanted love in his life—the romantic kind of love.

But now he was in purgatory with Greg because committing meant no turning back. And Nick wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.

"Think I'm stuck, 'Rick."

This was the closest either man had come to sharing their feelings, making Warrick suddenly tense up.

"Stuck how?"

"I don't know. I'm not bored, but...I don't feel challenged."

"You gotta upgrade your life and try new things, man. We're all getting older."

Nick nodded; dismissively at first. But the disbelief subsided when he realized Warrick was right.

There _was_ someone in Nick's life keeping him young and introducing him to new things...that person was _Gregory Hojem Sanders_: DNA expert, lab rat, and grade-A smart ass Norwegian lover. Also the same person that Nick chased away with his growing indifference.

"We _are_ getting old, aren't we?"

Warrick spit out a solid '_pshhh_' at Nick's accusation.

"Speak for yourself man, I'm still drowning in game. Can't keep the ladies off me, you know?"

Nick tapped the top of Warrick's bottle and swigged his beer with a grin.

"What if you end up hating the new thing you try?"

"Guess you won't know until you try."

———

According to Greg, sitting on a bench in Central Park was one of the best ways to experience the city. Of course that was probably because he was a broke college student when he lived in New York, but he still liked to consider himself a fun guy.

He could also appreciate the delicate beauty of Central Park. It was a place where West Village yoga moms and Bronx boys in Timberlands gathered in harmony (more or less) to enjoy nature. One could relax, a rare commodity in New York, while people watching the crazy inhabitants of the Big Apple. Greg contently pondered on this as he sipped on his craft bean juice from Williamsburg.

The blonde's meditative solace was suddenly interrupted by Nick's voice.

Greg could hear Nick complaining about going all the way to Brooklyn for an overpriced cup of joe. Trapped on a packed subway car in the name of caffeine—when there was a Starbucks _right_ outside of their hotel. And Nick would also bring up how nitro coffee was just a trend and he personally didn't _get it_. But in the end, Nick would have still made the trip to Brooklyn with Greg if it made him happy. Plus in between grievances and bad hipster jokes, Nick would probably kiss Greg and make every gripe on their journey worth it.

Greg blamed his unforeseen sentimentalism on the Kenny Chesney song playing in the background.

———

_The house was too clean._

Without Greg around, Nick had neurotically focused all of his anxieties on cleaning. And It worked to some extent, everything disinfected and organized to perfection—but now it didn't feel like a human being lived there. Greg was a hot mess, but he breathed _life_ into Nick's house, something he never noticed until Greg was gone.

Nick slumped down in his chair and decided to shift the sonic scenery to something other than country if he wanted to stop thinking about Greg. But that would probably be impossible since they shared a Spotify account. The younger man had given Nick his login even before they started dating, insisting (demanding) that Nick needed to discover better music. Eventually the Texan was able to slip a few country songs into Greg's mixes, sometimes catching the younger man listening to them at work.

He scrolled through Greg's latest listens and noticed that all of the titles sounded sort of..._sad_. Not just _regular Greg emo sad_, but a deep, unfulfilled sadness. Nick searched for Greg's most recently played song and hit play, dreamy synths and airy vocals reverberating out of his speakers. He almost felt like Greg was there with him, listening to LCD Soundsystem's 'oh baby' together. Because this was definitely a "_Greg song_" with its whimsical hipster-y melancholy vibes.

Nick was falling into a brilliant nightmare.

Life was a bad dream filled with haunted silhouettes; figures arguing in the produce aisle, the car, and in between the glass walls at work. There were also flashes of Greg raising his hands in defeat as Nick screamed into the door from the other side. The final image of Greg leaving replayed in Nick's mind over and over again.

Nick knew he was close to giving up, which is why he always tried to avoid the issue. He thought that by remaining quiet, everything would blow over somehow...only the exact opposite had happened. Every time Nick chose to turn away from Greg, the younger man's soul was crushed. Crushed badly enough to leave on a whim to another city. Next time, Greg might just leave forever.

Feeling compelled to try _anything_ at this point, Nick reached for his phone.

———

_ **Forgiving who you are ** _

_ **For what you stand to gain ** _

_ **Just know that if you hide ** _

_ **It doesn't go away ** _

_ **When you get out of bed ** _

_ **Don't end up stranded ** _

_ **Horrified with each stone ** _

_ **On the stage ** _

_ **My little dark age** _

———

_The clock beeped 1:36 AM._

Greg was lying alone in his hotel bed staring at the ceiling.

Even though he and Nick shared a bed most evenings, Greg always felt the loneliest then. For the distance between them spanned the earth and the moon; sometimes visible but never attainable.

He found himself nostalgically flipping through photos to see if this was something worth saving.

_A picture of Nick embracing Greg on a recent hiking trip. Swipe._

_Nick and Greg in their blue lab coats with the older man's hand across his chest. Swipe._

_Greg's mini-celebration after becoming the lead lab technician; champagne in their hands and Nick's arms around his waist. Swipe._

Suddenly his hands started to tremble.

Greg sighed in relief when he realized the movement was coming from his phone. Seeing it was a message from Nick, he locked his phone and tried to go to sleep. It was only after rolling in bed a few more times that Greg decided he would only be able to sleep if he read the message. He had to see what Nick wanted, even if it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

'_Miss you_'

Shaking his head, Greg popped a sleeping pill and closed his eyes.

———

It was only the second day Greg was gone and Nick was already going crazy.

The lab was uncharacteristically quiet every time he went to get something processed; the DNA tech's absence making waves.

Nick thought he would be better adjusted but it seemed that life without Greg wasn't much of a life at all. Nick found himself listening to Greg's playlist throughout the day, even catching himself like a song that he normally wouldn't listen to. Each song reminded him of a different facet of Greg; collectively making up the incredible carbon being Nick had unintentionally fallen for. Hoping he would appreciate the gesture, Nick texted MGMT's '[Little Dark Age](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtL5oMyBHPs)' to Greg which was currently blasting through his speakers.

He then sprinkled food into Greg's aquarium and watched in awe as a flurry of fish appeared, then quickly disappeared. 

Next to Greg's fish tank was also his battlestation; complete with an embarrassing photo taped to the monitor. Nick was just in his normal black t-shirt and jeans one day, hair freshly washed but not styled. For some reason the look made Greg so sprung that he took a snap and apparently worshipped it at home. He had no clue how Greg came into possession of that photo and to be fair, he didn't really want to know. Nick also realized that he didn't have a single picture of Greg back at his place.

Things would definitely need to change if Nick wanted to move forward.

Ultimately he found the perfect revenge image—Greg's chess nationals headshot. The lab tech was trying to do _cool _at 19, Photoshopping a floating chess piece above his open palm. It ended up making Greg look even dorkier, especially paired with his wannabe Steve Jobs turtleneck. He still looked cute with his spiky hair though, kind of like an angsty Zoolander. Nick couldn't stop laughing as he slipped the secret polaroid into his pocket.

———

Greg's phone went off as he was gallery hopping in Chelsea with a friend.

"What is it darling?"

His counterpart had a concerned expression on her face as she lit up.

"Nothing, just work."

"That face did _not_ say work. Try again." 

An arm swiftly unraveled itself against Greg's chest to reveal an open box of cigarettes. Greg hesitated for a moment before wiggling a cancer stick out of her grasp.

"Haven't had one of these in awhile."

"Seeing someone?"

Greg was speechless at her astute observation.

"I mean, either you stopped smoking because you're happy or because your lover doesn't like it. Which is it?"

"Both. Sort of. I don't really know."

Greg took a commemorative puff, immediately feeling the familiar dryness burn his throat. Nick would _kill him_ if he saw him smoking right now—not that it mattered any more. It was no secret that Greg loved to pair his alcohol with cigarettes, but he quickly learned that Nick was not a fan. Their first time getting drunk together was also Nick's first attempt at a kiss, and Greg would never forget the way Nick pulled back after they finished sucking face. It was so traumatizing that Nick had to stop drunk Greg from storming out, trying to explain to him that he didn't like the taste of smoke. Since then, Greg figured he should quit smoking for his health _and_ so he could regularly be on the receiving end of Stokes smooches™.

Realizing she was losing her friend, Jules snapped her fingers and flicked the cigarette out of Greg's mouth.

"Come on darling, where's your self control? Say no if you've quit."

Wanting a change of scenery, she tossed her head back and led Greg to another gallery. Once inside the pair promptly grabbed their free champagne and stood in obligation at the feet of the featured exhibit.

"Earth tones, blah blah blah, inner nature goddess. Now show me."

"Show you the message or show you a picture of him?"

"Picture first, _obviously_. I'll tell you if his text is worth examining."

Greg sucked in a breath as he unlocked his phone, gravitating towards his favorite picture of Nick. And then immediately cringing that he _had_ a favorite picture of Nick. But there was no way he could deny the magic that happened every time Nick and a fitted black tee got together and Greg sure as hell wasn't going to waste an opportunity to show off the Texan in all his glory. He swelled with pride seeing Jules' sharp gaze soften, her head slowly nodding in approval.

"Dish."

"We work together and his name's Nick. He's Texan and—"

"Figures. He looks like he _lives_ for The Gap. Shit Greg, you're not getting all domestic on me are you?"

"Not trying to...just kinda happened." Greg said with a shrug. "One day he gave me these vibes and ever since then, I don't know. I just went with it. We're in a weird place right now though."

Jules carefully observed Greg's face as they shuffled towards the next painting. It was a smaller canvas, but its use of jarring primary colors made it even more powerful than the last piece. It was a total wash though, trying to be a unique snowflake in a pretentious inferno.

"So what's his issue darling?"

"I don't know Jules, maybe we're not communicating. Like he's usually touchy feely but he's been pretty hands off for a couple of weeks. It sucks."

"_Love sucks_. That's why I stick to fashion and booze. But don't fret—no one loses anyone because no one belongs to anyone."

"Good one."

"Old news. And what did the text say?"

"He texted me an MGMT song. Before you say anything—_I know_. I like it rough, but please be gentle."

"I wasn't going to say anything." She said innocently, rolling her eyes at the same time. "He doesn't look like he listens to MGMT though."

"He doesn't. Mostly a country and rock kind of guy."

"Ugh." She turned up her nose in disgust as Greg acknowledged her sentiment.

"You know, it ain't so bad Jules."

"_Ain't so bad_?! Hip Greg is officially dead. Quick, what do you think of this painting?"

The vibrant red head pointed to another failed vision on the wall, getting an immediate sneer from Greg.

"Okay, _that's_ _bad_. But not all country is bad. There's like one or two good songs, tops."

"Look. You're a real piece of work and you're weird as all hell. But if a guy is trying to speak your weird ass language back to you—I'd say give it a chance."

Greg smirked. He knew she would come over to his side sooner or later.

"What do you say we blow this popsicle stand for some dumplings in Flushing, _doll_?"

"Thought you'd never ask _darling_."

———

"The peregrine falcon reaches top speeds compared to any other animal..."

Even David Attenborough narrating a two hour documentary about peregrine falcons wasn't enough to distract Nick from his thoughts. All he could think about was the annoying commentary from Greg he was missing out on. Greg would also accuse him of being a bootleg Grissom at some point, all the while trying to impress Nick with his random facts. Nick knew he had to do whatever he could to bring that weirdo back into his arms, but it wouldn't be easy—the younger man was probably off having the time of his life forgetting all about Nick and Vegas. 

Nick was in an intense standoff between his mouse and Google Flights when his phone went off.

_'how's marty?'_

He smiled. Marty was Greg's prized African Cichlid and certified tank boss.

_'Holding it down, but he misses you. How's NY?'_

_'ok but it'd be better if u were here'_

He could feel the smile in Greg's text.

_'Wish I was there too. Miss you G, come back.'_

_'?? i'll be back in 3 days'_

_'Come back tonight. I'll buy the ticket.'_

Nick nearly dropped the phone.

His hands might have acted too fast for his brain, but Nick didn't think he could last three more days without Greg.

_'lol u serious? i'm on vacation dude'_

_'Dead.'_

_'y?'_

_'I really like you, Greg. You've become a part of me and I need you. Hope you need me too.'_

_'i like u too but we aren't connecting nick'_

_'I promise to work on that. You can do a staycation at my place for the remainder of your trip and we can work this out together. Please come back?'_

His house was no TriBeCa, but Nick was pretty confident they could still have a good time together.

_'fine give me like 2ish hours and the flight info'_

Nick beamed, the smile immediately fading once he scrolled through his phone to perform the next task.

Having an honest conversation with his best friend.

Nervous fingers hovered over Warrick's name before finally making the connection.

"...Hey man. If you're not doing anything, let's grab a beer—on me. If you still wanna know, I'll tell you all about my _boo thang_."

———

Greg's pupils dilated with adulation when he noticed the top of Nick's head in the crowd. Unable to hold it in any longer, Greg dropped his reservations and made a mad dash for his lover. But the blonde's momentum swiftly came to a halt when he saw the special guest standing next to Nick.

"Hey Nick...What's up Warrick?" Greg said cooly, trying his best to act normal in front of his coworker.

"Relax babe, he knows." A beet-faced Nick slurred, affectionately taking the luggage from Greg's hands.

Greg gasped, nearly having a heart attack hearing Nick call him a pet name. As Greg slowly adjusted to the news, the weight begin to lift off his shoulders both literally and metaphorically.

"Gross. Definitely gonna have to get used to _that_ but don't worry Sanders, I'm cool with y'all. I mean it's weird as hell but—I ain't no homophobe."

"Warrick's fine with it." Nick reiterated. "Also don't get mad but...I showed him your chess photo."

Greg's mouth dropped as he quickly ripped himself from Nick's embrace.

"_What!_ Are you serious?"

"Chill out G, you ssstill looked cute."

Greg was _mortified_.

"Best friend privileges, dawg."

"_No one_ was supposed to see those photos...it was a dark time in my life when I thought magic was cool—but hey everyone goes through that phase, right?"

"At 19? Also there'sss more?"

Although the blonde tried to act detached in front of Warrick, he leaned into Nick's touches a little too much to be believable. For the most part, Greg was just relieved Warrick finally knew. He also didn't think that they would be showing embarrassing photos of each other so soon.

"_As you can tell_ this fool drank too much and I had to drive." Warrick said with a cringe, eventually easing up when he saw the captivated expression on Greg's face. "But dude's like in love with you or something so...please come get yo mans."

He watched in horror as drunk Nick placed sloppy kisses all over Greg's face and neck. _Gross_. And Greg was definitely embarrassed, but Warrick could tell that he was_ loving_ the physical affection from Nick—even with the fake cool guy act. Now all the subtle touches at work between Nick and Greg seemed to make sense.

Warrick was okay with the relationship between his best friend and (basically) annoying little brother—but come on, Greg Sanders out of all people?!

**_Really Nick_?**

The CSI Level III was repulsed again.

They were two idiots in love; the sun and the moon colliding. One couldn't exist without the other and with time, something truly magnificent would be actualized.


End file.
